The Heart's Lament
by horseyyay AKA Morgoth
Summary: Arwen struggles with the loss of her husband. Everywhere she turns she sees his ghost until she can bear it no longer. Written for Teitho challenge.


**A/N: Hi all :) This is my entry for December's Teitho challenge Memories :) writing this is the reason I have done nothing with my other stories... ahh well... no regrets :P**

He was so still, so empty. There was nothing left of the man she had known, nothing but the memories that drowned his empty shell. Their very presence was cloying, suffocating. She could not look at him without being flooded by every memory they had ever made, threatening to crush her beneath their weight.

Every day she woke, the last dredges of sleep washing away his death. She would turn to face the cold, unfeeling pillow beside her; an action which broke her crumbling heart as the pain of his loss was freshly renewed for another day. This was not a wound time could heal, it was one which time only widened further and further until inevitably, it consumed her.

She floated down the halls like a wraith, pale eyes, pale skin, only dark hair and red lips in a sunken face marking her as one who still graced the land of the living. Those who saw her out of the corner of their eye mistook her for a ghost in her pale gown and grey cloak, gliding across the floor. She did not even notice them. She only saw the memories of him leaning against this pillar, picking Eldarion off that floor, playing with a daughter in that garden.

He haunted this city, an eternal presence. While others welcomed it, a herald of a new world, for her it was only pain, a reminder of what she would never find again. She could not live with his ghost any longer. Her footsteps would whisper down these hallways one last time, in a farewell forged from grief and longing.

The whispers softly murmured down the corridors to the great hall. To Eldarion. Her beautiful son. She gazed upon him from the shadows for the last time, sitting in the great hall of his fathers, looking so much like his own. He was smiling at the young woman he loved. A smile so familiar it drove a knife between her ribs, and closing her eyes in pain she remembered a golden spring.

The leaves dappled the sunlight, drenching the snowdrops in honeyed gold. She felt the spring grass between her toes and caught glimpses of a young ranger watching from the trees. His lyrical cries of 'Tinuviel!' floated through the fog of the past and once again their eyes met, the world falling from beneath her, his smile of joy and soft 'My Lady?' her only anchor to the world. They walked through the trees, golden raindrops spattering their clothes. A smile here, a brush of fingers there, and for a time their world was one of sweet bliss and spring joy.

Strong arms enclosed her and the sharp knife of reality severed her hold on the past. The constant ache of loss flooded in, so overwhelming that all she could do was cling to her son and weep. She knew not how long she clung to that embrace, wishing with all her heart that when she opened her eyes it would belong to Aragorn instead of Eldarion. Eventually she faced the truth, looking into the moist eyes of her son, brimming with anguish and crushed hopes. He knew that she could not stay any longer but it did not dull the pain of her leaving. "Goodbye Mother." The two simple words had so much love, grief, and bittersweet acceptance poured into their souls, that they conveyed more than any speech.

Too soon she was released from his embrace and she felt lost in a storm, swept away, her footsteps hurriedly whispering a soft farewell to more flagstones and hallways as she was whirled away faster and faster. Until she reached the tomb and everything slowed to a standstill.

Even carved in stone his peaceful smile reminded her of all the times they had spent, sitting, just sitting, doing nothing at all. She could not help herself, stretching out to caress his cheek, cold stone turning to warm flesh beneath her fingers. His eyes flicked open, his love for her shining through the layer of sleep shrouding his gaze. "This must be a dream." His smile was slow and peaceful, the darkness of the world temporarily forgotten.

His peace resonated within her and that moment seemed to last an age. "Then it is a good dream." Her reply came with a sweet, gentle kiss.

Warm lips turned to cold stone and she collapsed to the floor with a wail of grief. She clutched the tomb, no tears left to cry, just a cold hollowness within. Gentle hands raised her and the soft embraces of her daughters enveloped her. There were no words spoken, for all words had already been said, over and over until they were as hollow as she felt. Their farewells were passed instead through the unspoken bond of mother and daughter.

And so she departed, walking the streets of the city she had once loved for the final time. It reeked of them; memories. Memories of every person who had ever lived or died there. She could feel them, seeping out of the cobbles, twining up her legs. She wanted nothing more than to run from the ghosts they left behind. For behind every ghost she saw him. Him giving an orphan food, helping an old woman with her market wares, buying their daughter a doll.

They turned her soul to ash.

The stables, with their scent of sweet hay and musky horse, was a seething mass of unwanted memories. She faltered at the door, almost unable to enter, and then unable to stop herself as she heard a familiar murmur. A murmur which turned into a quiet song, a lullaby, a goodbye, which broke her heart anew. Darkness occupied the day as she drew close to a stall, and slipped in. His song never faltered, nor did he look up as he cradled the head of his dying horse in his lap. The familiar hands ran up and down the dark face, stroking his ears and neck, untangling his mane as each breath grew longer and slower. Finally the light dimmed from his eyes as they gently closed and the huge body relaxed into the never-ending sleep of death. "Ábíede min aldgeddung drút, béo aet éadnes." Farewell my old friend, be at peace. Aragorn bid farewell to his steed in the tongue of his homeland, tears dripping onto the face that would never again lift in joy, or snicker gently into his master's hands, lips softly questing for apples.

Arwen lowered herself to the straw beside him and reached out to bring her husband into her arms, hugging only herself as they passed through thin air. She rocked herself as daylight returned, blinding and harsh. Until warm hands helped her up, drifting off her arms as she turned to face their owner. Her hurt lurched as he gave her a familiar smile as he faded into dust motes. She closed her eyes once again, in the faint hope that he might be there when she opened them.

"My lady? Your horse is ready." She blinked in the light, eyes snapping open, finding herself tracing the letters on the stable door's plaque. For Brego, loyal to the end. She glanced into the stall, empty of its current occupant, empty of everything, just a clean bed of straw and the spirit of the horse with a kingly name.

She dipped her head in thanks, unable to speak, afraid of what would emerge between her lips. The reins were supple and worn between her fingers, the liquid eyes of her grey steed brimming with empathy. She shook like a leaf in the wind and pressed her forehead against his, fingers twining around his mane, clutching him before the river of emotion swept her away. His soft sigh and tiny shifting of weight from one leg to another pushed her into motion, reminding her that time marched on, taking any who stood in his way into his hands, crumbling them into dust.

And so she left the city as she had arrived, mounted on a grey stallion, clad in a pale dress and a grey cloak. But happiness was swapped for heartbreak, and family for utter loneliness. She turned in her saddle, and took one last look at the white city. It gleamed in the final rays of the dying sun, full of new life, new hope, constantly moving forwards, never pausing, its losses nothing but memories which would fade into the mists of time.

The Dunedain King and his Elvish Queen would one day be nothing but a legend. Their lives would become part of a story, one which would be told in every language in every corner of Middle Earth. But that's all it would be. No one would remember the little moments in their lives, no one would remember his smile before bed, or the way he tickled Eldarion awake in the mornings. They would only remember the great deeds the man performed, but not the man himself.

She returned to the place of her childhood, where the mallorn trees grew cold and still as they mourned the loss of the elves. For Galadriel and Celeborn had left and all that remained of Caras Galadhon was an abandoned city mourning silently for its inhabitants, who had left it behind to sail to the Undying Lands, never to return. She wandered the streets, seeing friends and loved ones in every flet, on every stair. But never him. He had gone, gone forever. Her memories refused to take life, staying within the confines of her mind.

And for a time she was… content. Content to sit with the ghosts of her kin through the last days of summer, into an autumn full of swirling mallorn leaves. Swirling mallorn leaves which should not fall until spring began and the new were budding. But as the days drew colder, so did she, until even the red of her lips and darkness of her hair seemed to be hidden beneath a veil of grey.

She sat on Cerin Amroth, where they had finally pledged themselves to each other. She felt the strength drain from her limbs as she collapsed to the leaf strewn floor. As she lay, lacking even the energy to weep, she saw him there beside her. A worn ranger in the prime of his life once again, he smiled, brimming with love. "Forever." He caressed her face, and drew her into a long kiss. A kiss that promised a life of happiness and love. And for a time they just lay in silence together, lost in each other's eyes, ignoring the growing shadow that loomed over their heads. Until finally he smiled, a smile of sorrow. "I must go. I will return for you." He promised and rose, spring leaves caught in his hair. She stretched out to grab his hand, to keep him there just a short while longer, unbearable pain welling up inside as her fingers fell through him and crashed to the floor, dead weight.

She turned her face to a sky of the deepest black, dotted with tiny silver teardrops. They glimmered and shone with a hope and love so strong that she still saw them even after she had closed her eyes to the world. From the darkness behind her lids she felt her limbs turn to lead and peace stole upon her heart.

The pain dulled as she slipped into the final darkness and she had a sudden thought, a desire which she had not felt since his death. 'I want to look upon the stars one last time' echoed in the dim emptiness of her mind. One moment, something urged. Just one more moment in the darkness. She accepted it without question, there was no hurry, she had all the time...


End file.
